Dear Rachel
by maxsgirl452
Summary: In 2017, Rachel gets into an accident and loses her memory. Quinn must figure out a way to help Rachel remember or risk losing her forever.
1. Prologue

**Prologue: "It's been one week since you looked at me"**

* * *

_Dear Rachel, _

_It's been one week since the accident. One week since I saw you smile. One week since I heard your voice. One week since you were okay. One week…_

_Rachel, I miss you so much. I hold your hand and kiss your cheek and talk to you and study your face. I wish you'd wake up. _

_Please wake up._

_We have a wedding to plan. _

_I love you._

_~Q_


	2. But Accidents Will Happen After All

**Chapter 1: "But accidents will happen after all"**

* * *

"I don't understand your qualms with having the wedding in Lima," Rachel said, her eyes twinkling as she teased her fiancée, sitting across from her at a coffee shop in New York City.

Quinn glared at Rachel across the table and took another sip of her espresso. "And I don't understand why you keep bringing up the name of that horrid place we just so happen to have grown up in. I don't understand why _you_ even think you'd want the wedding there."

"Oh, it'd be romantic, Quinn. A wedding in our hometown, where we grew up, where we met, where we fell in love."

"I fell in love with you that night in New Haven."

"I call bullshit. You know you were hopelessly in love with me in high school, don't even try to deny it," Rachel teased.

Quinn smiled and rolled her eyes, "Maybe."

"Maybe my ass." Rachel's phone buzzed on the table, alerting her of a text message. She picked up her phone and checked the message. "It's Brian, he wants to do another fitting of my costume for the 'La Vie Boehme' scene." Rachel stood up and kissed her fiancée on the cheek. "I'll meet you at home in a few hours?"

Quinn nodded. "Have a good fitting."

"I will. I love you."

"I love you. And 'no' to Lima!" Quinn yelled over her shoulder as Rachel left the coffee shop. Quinn could hear Rachel's laughter as the door closed behind her. She smiled to herself and started making a mental list in her head of all the things she needed to do that day. She needed to review the updated guest list Rachel had given her that morning, call the catering companies to make appointments to taste their food, research professional wedding bands (because there was no way in hell her and Rachel would have the Glee Club perform at their wedding), and visit a few different bridal shops to get fabric samples for their bridesmaids. And that was just the list for this afternoon.

Quinn took a deep breath, finished the rest of her espresso, and stood up to leave. As soon as she stepped out into the warm, April air, she heard the sounds of tires squealing, glass breaking, and people screaming. Immediately, Quinn knew something was wrong. She ran down the block to see the scene of an accident. A car had ran a red light and slammed into a person crossing the street. Quinn saw the body lying in the middle of the road, and her world went black. It was Rachel.

Without thinking, Quinn ran into the crowd of people that surrounded Rachel and scooped her bloody body into her arms.

"Rachel? Rachel, baby, please wake up? Please? No. No. No," Quinn muttered to herself as she rocked Rachel back and forth. Rachel was limp in Quinn's arms, and blood gushed from wounds on her arms, legs, chest and head.

Sirens sounded and the ambulance arrived within minutes. The paramedics took Rachel, who was alive and barely breathing, and loaded her onto a stretcher. A distraught Quinn begged the paramedics to let her ride along, and they agreed. Quinn never left Rachel's side.

* * *

Quinn sat in the hospital waiting room, tears silently streaming down her cheeks, as she waited for any news of Rachel's condition. On one side of her sat Santana, on the other sat Kurt, both of whom held Quinn's hands and quietly comforted the blonde. Quinn checked the clock on the wall, 3:05. It had been four hours since the accident, and in the four hours that had passed, Quinn had sat, almost catatonic, in the waiting room, while people around her went about their business. She had somehow found the fortitude when she arrived at the hospital to text Kurt and Santana, her two oldest and closest friends in New York, though she couldn't bring herself to call Leroy and Hiram. A nurse in the ER had called Rachel's fathers instead. Kurt and Santana brought Quinn a change of clothes, since hers were covered in Rachel's blood.

The doctors hadn't updated Quinn about Rachel's condition in a few hours, and the more Quinn allowed the knowledge that Rachel was currently grasping at life on an operating table, the more overwhelmed Quinn became. Her tears came on and off all afternoon, and now, picturing Rachel being operated on, Quinn began to sob uncontrollably.

"Oh, sweetie..." Santana sighed. She placed her hand on Quinn's back and began rubbing slowly. "She'll be okay. She's a fighter."

"The doctor's said she's hanging on," added Kurt.

"That was two hours ago," Quinn sobbed. "What if... what if...?"

"No. No 'what if's'," Santana said. "Rachel will pull through. She will. You have to believe that."

Quinn sniffled through her tears and laid her head on Santana's shoulder. "I love her," she whispered.

"She knows, Q, she knows..." Santana reassured Quinn.

Quinn closed her eyes for a moment and allowed herself to focus on the calm motion of Santana's hand rubbing circles on her back. Minutes later Quinn heard voices she recognized. When she opened her eyes, she saw Leroy and Hiram Berry at the nurses station. Quinn popped up out of her chair.

"Lee, Hiram," Quinn said. She rushed to their sides and both men enveloped Quinn in a tight group hug. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," she sobbed in their arms.

"Shhh... Quinn, baby, it's not your fault," comforted Leroy.

Hiram turned to Santana and Kurt, "Do we know anything about Rachel's condition?" Kurt and Santana both shook their heads. "Alright, I'll go see what I can find," Hiram said. He squeezed his husband's shoulder and then turned back to the nurses station.

Leroy led Quinn back to where her and Santana and Kurt were sitting. Hiram came back a few minutes later. "They're sending a doctor out to talk to us." He sat down next to his husband and took his hand in his own.

"You guys got here quick," said Kurt, hoping to change the subject to something a little less heavy.

"Yes, luckily it wasn't much trouble," Leroy said, "We got on the first flight out."

"Quinn, sweetie, the nurse who called didn't tell us how it happened, can you...?" asked Hiram delicately.

Quinn nodded and took a deep breath, calming herself, before beginning, "We were at the coffee shop down the street from our place. We had gotten up late, since Rachel didn't have to be at the Nederlander until 4. We were planning the wed-" Quinn choked back a sob at the memory. Santana began rubbing her back again, which calmed Quinn down enough to continue. "She got a text from Brian, something about coming in for another fitting. So she left. And a minute later..." Quinn broke down again.

"Alright, alright, we get it. Thank you," said Leroy.

"Mr. Berry?"

The group looked up at the voice. An older doctor, in scrubs, was at the nurses station. The Berry men and Quinn went over to him.

"I'm Leroy Berry, this is my husband Hiram, we're Rachel's fathers. And this is Quinn, Rachel's fiancee," said Leroy, shaking the doctor's hand.

"It's nice to meet you all. I'm Dr Richardson. I operated on Rachel."

"How is she?" asked Hiram.

"She is in critical but stable condition. She was badly injured in the accident. She sustained two broken legs, a broken arm, broken ribs, and a fractured skull," Dr Richardson calmly explained. "She was lucky not to sustain any organ damage, however, she did sustain damage to her brain. We've been able to reduce the swelling of her brain, though she will need another surgery to further repair the damage. She's being transferred to the ICU for the night, and if she does well tonight, we'll transfer her to a general ward for recovery."

"So, is she going to be okay?" Quinn asked, desperate for good news.

"It's too soon to say for sure. Her body will heal, but the brain is a delicate organ and can be very affected by damage. I can give you a better response as her condition improves over the next few days."

Quinn sighed. She knew she wasn't going to get a clearer explanation from him. "When can we see her?"

"Once we get her settled in her room, I'll have a nurse come get you."

"Thank you, Doctor," said Hiram.

Doctor Richardson returned back through the doors to the Emergency Ward. Quinn returned to the waiting arms of Hiram and Leroy.


	3. Wishin' and Hopin'

**Chapter 2: "Wishin' and hopin' and thinkin' and prayin'"**

* * *

The steady beeps and mechanical noises of Rachel's room lulled Quinn into a half-asleep state. It was 2am, and Quinn hadn't slept at all. Leroy and Hiram went to a hotel a few blocks away, and Kurt and Santana headed home a few hours ago. The hospital, at Leroy and Hiram's urging, had allowed Quinn to stay the night at Rachel's side.

Quinn watched Rachel's chest rise and fall with each shallow breath. She held Rachel's good hand in her own. Rachel's other arm was wrapped in bandages, along with both her legs. Her head was wrapped as well, and her face was covered in cuts and bruises. Quinn sniffed back tears. Her shining star shone no longer.

Quinn couldn't quite wrap her head around the past 24 hours. It was like she was living in a nightmare. Was this real? Was Rachel really in a coma? Or were they wrapped up in each other in their bed at home? Quinn couldn't decide, though she hoped it was the latter, and that she would wake up soon.

Rachel was Quinn's life. Rachel was her world, and had been since 10th grade. Rachel entered her life in a whirlwind, and early on in their official romantic relationship, Quinn had vowed that she would fight like hell for the woman she loved. Quinn knew in her heart they were meant to be together. Nothing was going to stop them, or so she thought. Looking at Rachel now, Quinn wasn't so sure.

Quinn silently prayed to whomever might listen, God, the Universe, the Flying Spaghetti Monster, whatever. She prayed for a miracle. She prayed for Rachel, and her health, and their relationship. She prayed as hard as she could. She prayed until she finally fell asleep by Rachel's side.

* * *

_"Quinn..."_

_Quinn turned around at the sound of Rachel's voice. They were in their bathroom at McKinley. They had dubbed the bathroom "theirs" because of how many important moments between them occurred in that bathroom._

_"Quinn. Why do you hate me so much?" Rachel asked._

_"I don't hate you," Quinn responded. "I never hated you."_

_"They why?"_

_"Why what?"_

_"Why did you do all those things?"_

_"What things?" Quinn asked, confused._

_"You must have hated me. Why?"_

_"Rachel, I don't know what you're talking about!"_

_"This," Rachel said and threw a grape slushie in Quinn's face._

* * *

Quinn awoke with a start and gasped for breath. She felt her face, covered in a cold sweat, not slushie. As her breathing began to calm, she took in her surroundings and reassessed where she was. Machines beeped and whirred quietly in Rachel's hospital room. Rachel hadn't moved in her bed, not that Quinn had expected her to, though she had hoped. Quinn stood from her chair at Rachel's side and stretched. A sharp pain ran up her back because of the uncomfortable position she fell asleep in. She lifted her hands over her head and twisted herself around some, loosening her sore muscles.

"Oh, Quinn, you're awake," said Leroy as he entered Rachel's room.

"Good morning," Quinn said quietly.

"How's our girl?" Leroy asked.

Quinn shrugged. "No change."

"How did you sleep?"

Quinn shrugged again.

"You should go take a walk, move around a bit."

"No."

"Quinn..."

"No, Lee. I'm not leaving her side," Quinn said as she sat on Rachel's bed and grasped her hand again.

Leroy sighed but didn't argue. There was no point. Quinn was as stubborn as Rachel, and he knew the only fights the girls ever had were caused by their equal stubbornness. He could see the love for his daughter in Quinn's eyes. He knew how fiercely loyal Quinn was, and how steadfastly unwavering she was in her love for Rachel. He was proud to know Rachel found love in Quinn, and proud to consider Quinn a second daughter.

"I'm going to grab some coffee. Would you like some?" Leroy asked. Quinn nodded but didn't take her eyes off Rachel. "Alright, I'll be back."

Leroy found his husband talking to some nurses in the hallway outside of Rachel's room.

"How are they?" Hiram asked.

"Rachel's still... and Quinn... I don't know. She needs to get out of that room for a bit," Leroy replied.

"Oh, Lee, you know if the roles were reversed, Rachel would do the same. We wouldn't get her away from Quinn for anything. Not even if the building were on fire."

"I know, it's just-"

"And you know you wouldn't leave my side either," Hiram reminded his husband.

"Neither would you."

"Not in a million years," Hiram pecked his husband on the cheek.

"I'm going to get coffee. Want some?"

"Yes please. I'll stay with our girls."

Leroy went to grab coffee and Hiram went into Rachel's room.

"Hi Quinn," he said.

"Hi," Quinn replied, and again, her eyes never left her fiancee's face. Hiram sat down in the chair on the other side of Rachel's bed.

"She looks so small. I mean, I know Rachel's small, short, tiny, but she just looks so... small. Vulnerable. You try your hardest to protect your children, and you're terrified as they grow up and leave you. That's the hardest thing about being a parent, letting them go, not being able to watch over them 24/7. You just can't. You know your baby will be an adult one day, and you just have to accept that. But she's always going to be my little Rachel, my gold star."

"I know where Rach gets her babbling gene from."

Hiram laughed. "You know I'm nervous when I start rambling. Same with Rach."

"You know, the first night we kissed, in my dorm at Yale, she was so nervous about what was happening between us that she talked for, I swear, like twenty minutes non-stop until I finally just kissed her. It shut her up good." Hiram laughed. Quinn continued, "It was kind of my secret weapon, whenever I needed her to stop talking, or we were fighting. I'd just kiss her. She could never resist." Quinn chuckled to herself, and then her laughter turned into sobs. Hiram stood behind Quinn and put his hands on her shoulders, comforting her.

* * *

Three days passed. Rachel had surgery two more times to further reduce the swelling on her brain. Quinn stayed in the hospital. Kurt and Santana brought her clean clothes, but Quinn hadn't had a proper shower. She slept in the chair next to Rachel's bed. She paced around Rachel's room for exercise, but never left Rachel for a moment. She ate hospital food and the occasional fast food meal brought by Hiram and Leroy. And she waited.

One afternoon, Kurt brought her a nice, hard-cover notebook, to write down her thoughts, he told her. Quinn wasn't much of a journaler or a diary keeper, but she thought she just might start, given how bored she was waiting for Rachel to wake up. Quinn jotted down notes, memories, lists, and even a little poetry when inspiration hit her. And that evening, she started sketching Rachel's face. Quinn had always been quite talented as an artist, but never pursued it as anything other than a hobby or a time-killer, or in her early high school years, as a way to bully Rachel.

Quinn became quite enthralled in drawing as the hours and days passed. She was sketching Rachel's lips, trying to perfect their form, as Leroy and Hiram were packing their things and getting ready to leave for the evening.

"Quinn," sighed Leroy. "Why don't you go home tonight? Sleep in a real bed? Shower?"

"No."

"Quinn..."

"No. No, Lee. I won't leave her."

"Quinn, please," said Hiram. "You need to get out of this room for a bit."

"No!" Quinn yelled, as tears began streaming down her face. "No. I won't leave. You can't make me! Please, don't make me leave her!"

"Okay, Quinn. Okay," Leroy said, pulling the hysterical Quinn into an embrace. "We won't make you leave."

A nurse outside Rachel's room watched the whole commotion. As Hiram left Rachel's room, the nurse approached him. "Mr. Berry, the hospital can have Ms. Fabray removed, if you'd like."

"No," Hiram said without thinking. "No. Ms. Fabray will be extended every courtesy and every right afforded to my husband and myself as Rachel's legal next-of-kin. If I have to sign any form or paperwork for that to happen, I will without hesitation. Ms. Fabray is Rachel's partner, and she will be treated as such. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. Let the rest of the nursing staff know that. And if there is any form I can sign to make that legal for the hospital, please get that to me as soon as possible."

"I'll check on it, sir."

"Thank you," Hiram said, turning back to the doorway. He watched as his husband comforted Quinn. The Berry men locked eyes and shared a moment of pain. Their hearts broke for Quinn.

* * *

The next day, the hospital wheeled in another bed for Quinn to sleep in. She was also given a key to the hospital staff showers so she could clean up properly. Kurt and Santana played laundry service, taking Quinn's dirty clothes home to wash and bringing her back clean clothes. They both kept Quinn company whenever they were not working. They also brought Quinn her laptop so she could keep up with some work while she waited.

The days passed. Rachel slowly healed, at least on the outside. The bandages around her head came off. Her bruises faded. The cuts and scrapes began to heal. Other than being unconscious, Rachel began to look like herself again. And true to Quinn's word, she stayed by Rachel's side day in and day out, leaving only to shower. Leroy and Hiram would come in the morning, bring Quinn breakfast, and take watch over Rachel so Quinn could shower. They would stay until the mid-afternoon, when Kurt and Santana would come after work, bringing Quinn dinner and a change of clothes for the next day.

And Quinn would sit and watch and wait. She would draw and write notes to Rachel. She would work on her computer. She would call the director of the RENT revival Rachel was set to star in next year as Maureen and update them on Rachel's condition. And at night when they were alone, she would talk to Rachel, tell her funny stories, and sing to her, hoping that Rachel could somehow hear her. This was the routine for over a week.

One night, ten days after Rachel's accident, late after everyone had left, Quinn opened up a special folder on her computer. On it were clips of Rachel singing, recordings and videos she had made especially for Quinn. Quinn went through the whole folder that night, watching her darling Rachel serenade her with Broadway ballads, make her laugh with goofy renditions of rap songs, and make her cry with songs from their days in Glee Club. Quinn closed her eyes and listened to the songs, picturing her and Rachel in the choir room or the auditorium, Rachel singing just for her.

In the background, the steady rhythm of Rachel's heart monitor sped up. Rachel's breathing also grew faster and fuller. As the song ended, Quinn realized something wasn't the same. She looked up from her laptop to Rachel, and saw her eyes fluttering. Quinn hopped up off her bed and went to Rachel's side, taking her hand.

"Rachel? Rachel, baby?" Quinn whispered.

Rachel whimpered as her eyes slowly opened.

"Rachel! Oh my God. Rachel. You're awake."

Rachel moaned and blinked a few times. She cleared her throat and coughed. Quinn grabbed a cup of water from the cart next to her bed and helped Rachel take a few sips.

"Rach, baby, do you know where you are?" Quinn asked.

Rachel shook her head. "Who are you?"

Quinn's heart dropped. "Rach... It's me. It's Quinn."

Rachel shook her head, "Quinn? I don't... I don't know you."


	4. Memory, All Alone in the Moonlight

**Chapter 3: "Memory, all alone in the moonlight"**

* * *

Quinn watched outside Rachel's room as Dr. Richardson examined Rachel. She had called a nurse in as soon as she realized Rachel really didn't know who she was, and she called Rachel's fathers immediately after. Ten minutes had passed after Dr. Richardson began to examine Rachel when Hiram and Leroy rushed down the hallway and into Rachel's room. Quinn moved from the hallway into the back of the room to watch.

"Daddy! Papa!" Rachel exclaimed.

"Oh, Rachel," said Hiram.

"There's my baby girl," said Leroy as both men embraced their daughter.

"Daddy, why's your hair so grey?" said Rachel, her tone that of a small child.

Leroy and Hiram exchanged worried glances.

"Rachel, how old are you?" asked Dr. Richardson.

Rachel giggled, "That's a silly question. I'm 13 years old, of course."

"What year is it?" asked Dr. Richardson.

"2007. Right?" Rachel asked as she noticed the concerned looks on her fathers' faces.

"No, baby girl," said Leroy. "It's not 2007 anymore. That's why my hair is so grey. It's 2017. You're 23 years old Rachel."

"What? No, I'm not. Daddy, stop being silly. You're scaring me."

"Rach, sweetie, you were in an accident," said Hiram. "You hit your head. You must not remember."

Rachel began to cry, "I'm 13..."

Quinn stood silently in the back of Rachel's room, watching the whole incident. As Rachel calmed down, she locked eyes with Quinn, and Quinn's heart dropped to her feet. There was no recognition in Rachel's eyes.

"You're not a nurse or a doctor, so who are you?" Rachel asked Quinn.

Quinn froze. She didn't know what to do. She didn't know what to say. She didn't want to upset Rachel, but she wanted her to know about them, about their life together. Quinn looked to Leroy and Hiram for help.

"Rachel, this is Quinn," said Hiram tentatively.

Quinn stepped forward and took a deep breath, calming herself. "I'm your... girlfriend, fiancee actually."

Rachel's lip quivered, "But... no... I like boys."

"Rachel," chided Leroy. "You always said it didn't matter to you."

"But-but-but... I like _boys_," Rachel argued as she became overwhelmed again. Quinn sobbed and rushed out of the room.

Leroy and Hiram were about to jump to Quinn's defense, but Dr. Richardson intervened, "We should let Rachel rest." Leroy and Hiram followed Dr. Richardson out of Rachel's room and into the hallway. There they found Quinn, sitting against the wall, head in her hands, bawling. Leroy bent down to pull Quinn into his arms.

"Shh... It'll be okay," he said.

"She doesn't remember me. She doesn't remember anything," Quinn muttered through her sobs.

"She will. It'll take her time, but she'll remember. Right Doctor?" Leroy asked Dr. Richardson.

"It's hard to say with post-traumatic amnesia," replied Dr. Richardson. "Rachel's memory may gradually return, however she may never fully regain all the memories she lost, especially the times right before the accident and the accident itself.

"Memory is complicated," Dr. Richardson continued. "We know that our brain makes connections to memories based on many factors, including our senses. And our memories never go away fully, we just lose the ability to make those connections as we grow older, or those connections fade over time. And some connections are stronger than others, especially those related to sound and smell. Like a song taking you back to your high school prom, or the smell of cookies reminds you of your grandmother. Right now, Rachel's brain is having trouble finding the connections to certain memories."

"How can we help her remember?" asked Hiram.

"Carefully and slowly. Rachel is very sensitive right now. She truly believes herself to be 13 years old. And now she's been thrown into a world ten years later, without any recollection of living through that ten year time span. We have to reintroduce her to her current life very cautiously. Showing her pictures and videos of herself going through life events, like high school graduation, can help her brain regain those connections to those memories. But it must be done slowly, and when Rachel wants to remember. If she fights it, she won't remember.

"I would suggest, for the time being, that Rachel's fathers be the only ones allowed contact with Rachel," said Dr. Richardson.

"What?" Quinn jumped up.

"Ms. Fabray, Rachel is in a very emotional state right now. It's for her benefit that she not be under too much stress as she begins to heal."

"I'm her _fiancee_," Quinn said firmly.

"I understand that. But unfortunately, right now, Rachel doesn't remember you. And until she remembers, or until she's discharged from the hospital, I would prefer she be kept as stress free as possible."

Quinn glared at Dr. Richardson, but didn't argue.

"That's fine, Dr. Richardson," said Hiram. "Thank you."

Dr. Richardson nodded, and went back into Rachel's room.

"Prick," muttered Quinn under her breath.

"Quinn," Leroy sighed. "Give him the benefit of the doubt."

"You know if the roles we reversed, Rachel would have _castrated_ him for telling her she couldn't see me," argued Quinn.

"Oh, I know she would have, and she probably would have had his Medical License as well. But sometimes, you're a better person than she is. And don't you ever tell her I said that," said Hiram.

* * *

"She's awake?" exclaimed Santana. Quinn had called her friend after Leroy and Hiram went back into Rachel's room. "That's fantastic Quinn!"

"Yeah..." Quinn muttered.

"Why don't you sound more excited? What's wrong?"

"Rachel, she... she doesn't remember me."

"What?"

"She's got amnesia."

"You're kidding," Santana said in disbelief

"I'm not, San. I feel like I'm living in a bad soap opera. Rachel thinks she's 13. She doesn't remember me, she doesn't remember the last ten years."

"Oh my god."

"Yeah..."

"So what are you going to do?" asked Santana.

"I don't know, San. I don't know. Lee and Hiram are with her right now. The doctor doesn't want me to see her until she remembers me."

"Are you fucking kidding me? They can't do that!"

"I know, but I don't want to cause Rachel any more stress than she's already in."

"But Quinn, that's your girl. I'mma come down there and cut a bitch."

"Hey, don't you go all Lima Heights Adjacent on me, San. I need my best friend to calm me down, not work me up."

"Alright, alright. So, Rachel really thinks she's 13?" Santana asked.

"Yeah, and I didn't move to Lima until freshman year, so I can't even get her to recognize the old Quinn."

"Well, she wouldn't recognize me, I went to South Middle School, and Rach went to North," Santana said. "Wait! Kurt went to North with Rachel. I wonder if she'd recognize him."

"It's worth a shot. Can you call him and both of you come in today?" asked Quinn.

"Yeah, we'll be there as soon as we can."

"Thanks San."

"Chin up, kid. We'll figure this out."

"I hope so."

"See you soon."

"Bye."

* * *

True to Santana's word, her and Kurt got to the hospital only an hour after Quinn had called. Santana had filled Kurt in along the way, and he was eager to see if Rachel recognized him. Quinn hugged Santana and Kurt when they arrived, and then watched as Kurt entered Rachel's room. Quinn and Santana stood by the door and watched.

Leroy and Hiram, who were sitting with Rachel, saw Kurt come in Rachel's room and motioned him over. He approached Rachel's bed with caution, but Rachel smiled and immediately recognized him.

"Kurt?" she exclaimed, "Wow, you look different."

"Hi Rach. Yeah, I'm sure I do look different," Kurt replied. "I'm a lot older than what you remember. And you are too."

"I know. Daddy and Papa have been telling me about it. I'm still really confused."

"I bet. I can't wait for your memories to start coming back. You've got a great life to get back to."

"I guess so," Rachel said hesitantly. "Hey, do you remember when you and me and Noah were in ballet together last year?"

"That was actually eleven years ago."

"Oh. Right," Rachel

Quinn whispered to Santana in the back of the room, "Puck was in ballet?"

Santana whispered back, "Oh, I'm gonna tease him about this now."

"How is Noah?" asked Rachel.

"Um, he's good. He's living in Cleveland. He owns his own landscaping business. He got married last year and his wife is pregnant."

"Oh..."

"Yeah."

"Daddy, I'm tired," said Rachel, obviously distressed from Kurt's news about Puck.

"Okay, sweetie. We'll leave you alone for a bit," said Leroy.

* * *

Kurt and Santana tried to convince Quinn to go home for the evening, now that Rachel was conscious. Quinn refused, saying she wasn't going to leave Rachel, no matter what. So Quinn stayed. She sat on the chairs outside of Rachel's room. She paced back and forth in the hallway. She looked in the window as the nurses and doctors checked on Rachel. And once Rachel was asleep, Quinn took her watch next to Rachel's bed and began to write in her notebook.

_Dear Rachel,_

_I'm so scared darling. I look into your eyes, and you see right through me. The sparkle I used to elicit from those gorgeous chocolate orbs is no longer there. You don't know me anymore._

_I want you to remember so badly. I want to shake you and force you to recognize me. I want to kiss you. Maybe that would help...?_

_Rachel, I love you. I'm not giving up. I'll never give up on you, on us. _

_You're the love of my life. I will marry you someday. _

_Yours forever,_

_Q_

Quinn sighed and read over her note before closing the notebook. Rachel was awake and studying Quinn when Quinn looked up, as if she sort of recognized Quinn, but couldn't place where from.

"Oh, sorry," said Quinn.

"It's okay," Rachel said, softly. "What were you doing?"

"Writing a note."

"Oh."

"Do you want me to leave?" asked Quinn, not wanting Rachel to feel uncomfortable around her. Even if Rachel didn't remember, Quinn didn't want to hurt any chance she might have to win Rachel back.

"No, it's okay. You can stay," Rachel said. "So, you know me? Like, me now?"

"Yes, I know you very well."

"So, you know that my dream has always been to make it to Broadway?" asked Rachel. Quinn nodded. "So, did I?"

Quinn smiled. "Yes, you were nominated for a Tony last year. You didn't win, but you've kind of become Broadway's 'it girl'. You've made some good progress towards your EGOT."

Rachel beamed. Quinn's heart fluttered. She hadn't seen Rachel smile like that since before the accident. Quinn smiled back at Rachel and mindlessly took a sip of the drink she brought up from the hospital cafeteria.

"What are you drinking?" asked Rachel.

"Um, a slushie," Quinn replied without thinking as she showed the grape slushie to Rachel.

Rachel blanched and she began to hyperventilate. In her mind's eye, she was standing in the hallway at McKinley, and Quinn, in her Cheerios uniform, was standing before her, slushie cup in her hand, ready to throw it in Rachel's face. Rachel screamed. "Don't throw it! Please don't slushie me, Quinn!"


	5. You've Arived at Panic Station

**Chapter 4: "You've arrived at panic station"**

* * *

_Dear Rachel,_

_Believe it or not, the slushie thing wasn't my idea in the first place. I heard the rumors that I invented the slushie facial, but I really didn't start it. Whittney Carry came up with it before she dropped out of school and got addicted to meth. Anyway, freshman year, the underclassmen on the Cheerios were pressured by the seniors and by Sue to make themselves well known in school as popular. So, Whitney decided to target "unpopular" kids and dumping slushies over their heads. Santana was the one who actually started throwing them in peoples faces. _

_You were the first person I slushied. You never really asked me why I picked on you so much, so I never talked about it, but I really should have told you. It sounds cliche, but I starting bullying you because I liked you. _

_The first time I saw you, the first day in Mr. Schue's 9th grade Spanish class, I got this weird feeling in the pit of my stomach. You raised your hand for every single question he asked that day, and I sat in the back of the class, and I couldn't take my eyes off of you. I was new to Lima, and I was scared. I had lost a lot of weight over the summer, and I was finally feeling good about myself. I desperately wanted to be popular, and I knew liking you wouldn't get me there. I had my dad's Christian values in one ear, and my mom's push for perfection in the other. So, I caved and joined the Cheerios. _

_I thought if I just started to hate you, bully you, torment you, maybe my crush would go away. It never did. _

_Rachel, I've apologized to you before for the way I treated you in high school, and I know you've forgiven me, but I need to apologize again and again until I can forgive myself. Rach, I am so sorry for everything. I'm sorry for the slushies. I'm sorry for the comments on your Myspace. I'm sorry for the mean nicknames. I'm sorry for causing you so much pain. _

_I wish I could make up for it. I'm trying. Every day I am so thankful that I pulled my head out of my ass so that I could become friends with you Senior year, and I'm thankful that in college I could be brave enough to finally admit my feelings for you. I'm thankful that we fell madly, deeply in love with each other. And I'm thankful that I get to spend the rest of my life loving you the way I always should have. _

_But I'm so scared now that you're starting to remember, that you won't want to try to remember anything else because you won't be able to get passed the memories of me bullying you. You're going to push me away, I just know it. You're living in your memories now. You're not seeing things the way they are today, you're only seeing what they were. _

_I've changed. You changed me. I love you, Rachel. Please come back to me. _

_Yours forever,_

_Q_

* * *

"You were drinking a slushie? Are you really that fucking stupid?" Santana scolded over the phone. Quinn had called her as soon as she left Rachel's room. Quinn could hear Rachel sobbing in her room from where she stood in the hallway.

"Apparently I am that fucking stupid," said Quinn. "Jesus, San, I don't know how much worse I could have fucked up. She's in there, basically having a panic attack, because of how much of a bitch I was in high school."

"Fuck."

"Yeah. Fuck is right. God, I wish I could just, like, take the TARDIS and go back in time and tell high school Quinn to grow up and stop treating people like shit."

"No time travel. You've got to stop watching Doctor Who. Besides, timelines. Who's to say if you changed the past, this future wouldn't change too? You might not have had Beth. You might not even be with Rachel."

Quinn chuckled, "Now who watches too much Doctor Who?"

"Hey, you called me at 3 A.M. This is my brain at 3 A.M. And you're the one who got me into that stupid, addicting show in the first place."

"What a mistake," Quinn quipped

"Look, just focus on the positive, alright? At least we now know her memories can come back. We can work with this."

"Yeah, I guess."

"Are you going to go home tonight?" asked Santana.

"I might. I don't know..."

"You can always come here if you don't want to be alone. I've got the bed all warmed up."

"Are you flirting with me?" Quinn teased. "Now, what would Britt say about that?"

"Please. You and me both know Britt doesn't care when it comes to you. She knows where my heart is."

"Aw, you big sap."

"Shut up."

"I'll be over in a bit, thanks San," said Quinn.

"No problem kid. See you in a bit," said Santana.

Quinn hung up the phone and looked into Rachel's room. A nurse was checking on Rachel as she cried. Quinn's heart broke seeing the woman she loved in so much pain, pain caused by Quinn and her actions. Quinn never knew just how much pain her bullying caused Rachel in high school, but she figured in this moment, she was getting a glimpse of what Rachel did every night when she was 14 years old.

* * *

**6:30 A.M**

Quinn stared at Santana's alarm clock that flashed those bright red numbers. She couldn't sleep after having more nightmares about Rachel and purple slushies, so she crawled out of bed, careful not to wake a snoring Santana, and tip-toed her way out to Santana's living room. She pulled her cellphone out of her purse and dialed.

"Hello?"

"Brian, it's Quinn Fabray calling," said Quinn.

"Quinn! How are you? How's our girl?" asked Brian, the director of the RENT revival Rachel was set to star in later that year.

"I'm alright. Rachel is awake."

"Oh, thank heaven! I was so worried."

"Don't celebrate just yet. She has amnesia."

"What? Oh my God, it's like a soap opera."

"You're telling me."

"So, she doesn't remember anything?" asked Brian.

"She thinks she's 14. She doesn't remember high school. She doesn't remember college. She doesn't remember Broadway."

"Wow. Is her memory going to come back?" he asked.

"Hopefully," Quinn responded. "But I have no idea how long it's going to take. When she woke up, she thought she was 13. She didn't remember me, since we didn't meet until freshman year. Now she knows me, or... she knows who I used to be..."

"I get the feeling you're not telling me everything."

Quinn sighed, "Well, Rachel and I haven't always been the happy couple you know us as today. I was not very nice to her in high school. And now that's the only Quinn she remembers. Evil Quinn."

"I'm sorry. This must be so hard."

"Thanks."

"Well, Quinn, I want to ease any fears you might have about Rachel's future with this show. We absolutely adore Rachel, and we'll wait for her. As long as it takes for her to get her memory back."

"I'm glad to hear you say that, Brian. I didn't want to ask, but I was hoping you'd say that."

"Rachel's worth the wait."

"That she is."

"Thank you for keeping me updated, Quinn. Please let me know any changes when you know them," said Brian.

"Will do. Thanks Brian."

"Of course. Talk to you later."

Quinn hung up the phone and returned to Santana's bed. She snuggled herself under the covers and turned to her friend who was awake and had listened to the conversation through the cracked door.

"So, everything's good?" asked Santana.

"Yeah. Everything's fine. Brian's willing to wait for Rachel to get better."

"That's a relief."

"Yeah," Quinn sighed.

"Come here," Santana said, opening her arms. Quinn cuddled up to Santana's side. "Hey, did you ever think about... you know, getting with me?"

Quinn chuckled, "You? Hardly. I'd have to be drunk for that."

"Hey!" Santana exclaimed, offended.

"I'm kidding. No, my heart has always been Rachel's. I couldn't be with anyone else. What about you?"

"What? Getting with you?" Santana asked. Quinn nodded. Santana shrugged. "Maybe once or twice. You know, after high school, when Britt and I broke up for that year? I kinda thought something could have happened between us then. But then you and Rach got together, so it didn't matter."

"Aww, you missed your chance."

"I really did. I could have initiated you into lesbianism," teased Santana.

"I'm glad you didn't. I kinda like the idea that Rachel is the only woman I've ever been with. It's romantic."

"Yeah," said Santana. She pulled Quinn closer into her body as a cool breeze blew through her open bedroom window. "When did you know?" Santana asked.

"Know what?" responded Quinn.

"That you were gay. You know my coming out story. You lived through it. But I never really knew yours. It was just college and all of a sudden you and Rachel were a thing. We never really talked about it."

"Well, I mean, I guess I always knew. I just never acted on it," said Quinn. "The whole reason I started bullying Rachel in the first place was because I liked her. Freshman year, before Cheerios, before I climbed the McKinley Social Ladder, I had a big crush on Rachel. I would stare at her in Mr. Schue's class and wish that I could go talk to her. But I never did. My mom pushed me into popularity, cheerleading and all that. And my dad struck the fear of God in me, so I hated myself for even thinking those things about Rachel."

Santana nodded and Quinn continued, "And then Cheerios happened, and Whittney Carry and her slushie idea, and before I knew it, I had a slushie in my hand and Rachel standing in front of me. I closed my eyes and prayed for forgiveness and dumped that stupid grape slushie on her. Then I was popular." Quinn sighed, "And Finn came along, and I thought if he liked me, maybe I could force myself to like him. Never worked."

"Well, Finn was disgusting, so..."

Quinn chuckled, "Yeah, but it was the same with Puck too, sophomore year. That night I got pregnant, I thought, if I just have sex with him, maybe I'll like it. But I didn't. It just made things worse. A lot worse. God, when I was pregnant, I had the dirtiest dreams about Rachel, you would not believe."

Santana laughed, "Spare me the details."

"I will. But yeah, I kept liking Rachel through it all. By the time my dad left, I was done caring so much about my popularity, and my good-girl reputation was totally blown. So I finally let myself become friends with Rachel, and I guess my feelings just developed from there. Once we were in college and dumbass Finn was out of the picture, I told her how I felt."

"And the rest is history, so to speak," said Santana.

"Yeah," Quinn sniffed as tears began to run down her cheeks. "I just want her to remember it all. I know I was horrible in high school, but we got here okay. I hate that she thinks of me how I used to be. I've changed so much."

"I know," said Santana as she rubbed Quinn's back. "She'll remember, just give her some time."

"I'm so scared San."

"I know. I know you are."

"I love her so much."

"She knows. Deep down, she knows."

* * *

Kurt sat next to Rachel in her hospital room. He was visiting Rachel the morning after the slushie incident, and Rachel was still panicked about it.

"How can you be friends with them?" Rachel asked.

"They've changed, Rach. Quinn and Santana, they're not the same people they were in high school."

"I can't believe that. They hurt us, Kurt. They threw slushies at us. They were so mean."

"I know. I remember. But then I remember what happened later. I remember Glee club and how they changed because of us. We made them better people."

"But I don't remember that. All I remember is the slushies. Washing purple, sticky, cold goop out of my hair every day. I remember crying every night. I remember wanting to die! And now you tell me I'm in love with the person who used to torment me? Grown-up Rachel must be crazy!"

"Well, I won't argue there."

"Kurt be serious!"

"I'm sorry, Rach. It's just... you and Quinn, you're perfect together."

"Kurt..." Rachel whined.

"Rach..." Kurt mimicked Rachel's tone of annoyance. "I'm serious. Look, wasn't there any time you can remember where you liked Quinn a little?"

"Well...," Rachel thought hard. She remembered wanting to be friends with Quinn freshman year, before the first slushie was dumped over her head. She remembered the quiet girl in the back of the room who would catch her eye every once in awhile. And then she remembered that quiet girl joining the Cheerios and seeing the change take place.

Rachel blew out a breath, frustrated, "It was hard to like her. She was so mean to me. I mean, I thought she was pretty, well, actually I thought she was gorgeous."

Kurt smirked at Rachel's admission. "See."

Rachel rolled her eyes, "That's not what I meant. I just... I keep remembering all these things from 9th grade. Bad things. No good things."

"Then you have to start remembering 10th grade. Things got better. We got Glee club."

"Glee club?" asked Rachel.

"Yeah, with Mr. Schue. Do you want to see some videos?" asked Kurt.

"Um... I suppose."

Kurt pulled out his phone and brought up YouTube. He found old videos of Glee club performing songs like "Don't Stop Believing", "Somebody to Love" and finally, "Keep Holding On". Rachel watched them intently.

"That's me," Rachel said, pointing to herself on the small screen. "And that's you. And Finn..."

"Yep."

Rachel stared at the screen, wide-eyed. "Puck. Mike. Matt. Artie. Mercedes. Tina. Santana. Brittany."

"And?"

Rachel sighed, "Quinn. Oh my God... Quinn. The baby."

"You remember?"

Rachel nodded, "10th grade. She got pregnant. We all thought it was Finn's, but it was really Puck's. What happened to the baby?"

"Think," Kurt responded. "It's in your brain. You can remember."

Rachel concentrated on Kurt's phone where the video had paused on Quinn's face. She tried hard to remember, but nothing came to her except the moment between Quinn and Rachel in the hallway after Rachel had blurted out in Glee club that the baby was Puck's. Rachel shook her head.

"I don't remember."

"It's okay, Rach. It'll come to you. Probably when you're least expecting it."

"I tried to be nice to her," Rachel said, referring to their conversation in the hallway. "But it was really hard. I mean, I know she was pregnant, and it was a big scandal, but it's not easy to forgive her for how she bullied me."

"You did. You tried, and you did forgive her, because she changed."

"I'm trying to believe you, Kurt. I just... It hurts."

"I know it does."

* * *

Quinn arrived at the hospital later in the afternoon that day. Hiram and Leroy were in Rachel's hospital room with Rachel, so Quinn waited just outside the door and listened.

"How could you? How could you let this happen?" Rachel practically yelled at her fathers.

"Baby girl..." sighed Leroy.

"No, don't 'baby girl' me, Daddy. I don't understand. You saw what she did. You saw how much hurt she caused me. You held me every night as I cried because of the slushies and the name calling and the cyberbullying. You threatened to get into a legal battle with the school because of it. And after all that, you allow me to fall in love with that _woman?_"

"Rachel," Hiram began. "I understand that you can't remember everything that's happened in the past ten years, but make no mistake, your father and I always have and will always protect you as best we can. If we ever thought Quinn would hurt you, we would have put a stop to your relationship. But the Quinn we've come to know over the past five years since the two of you began dating, that Quinn is not the same one who caused you that pain so many years ago."

"But don't you remember me coming home from school covered in slushie?" argued Rachel.

"Of course we remember," said Leroy. "That image is hard to forget. But we also remember Quinn apologizing personally to us before she asked us for your hand in marriage. We remember seeing how happy you are together, how perfect you are for each other. Yes, you had a rocky start, but you overcame it. And besides, Rachel, don't you remember all the times we talked about forgiveness and turning the other cheek?"

Rachel fumed. Her arguments against Quinn were failing but she couldn't, or rather, wouldn't give up making the case that her tormenter couldn't possibly be her future fiancee. Her memory may be foggy, but she couldn't forget the tightness in her chest, the panic that overcame her at seeing that slushie last night.

Quinn heard the pause in conversation and moved from where she stood in the hallway into the doorway of Rachel's room to better see what was happening. Rachel saw the movement out of the corner of her eye and whipped her head towards Quinn.

"Go away, Quinn," Rachel spat.

Quinn stepped into the room. "Please, Rach, let me explain."

"No! Go away! Leave me alone!"

Quinn pressed forward, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry for everything I did back then, Rach."

"Don't. Don't _ever_ call me 'Rach' again. We're not friends. We never were."

Quinn opened her mouth to protest, but Hiram intervened and pulled Quinn back out into the hallway. Quinn collapsed into Hirams arms in tears. He set her down on a chair outside of Rachel's room and sat next to her as she sobbed.

"Shh. I'll be okay," he whispered.

"How? She hates me."

"Rachel Barbra Berry doesn't hate anyone. She may not like you very much right now, but she doesn't hate you," Hiram replied. "Quinn, the hospital is going to release Rachel tomorrow. Lee and I were thinking about taking her home."

"Home?" sniffed Quinn.

"Back to Lima."

Quinn panicked. "What! Hiram, you can't!"

Hiram sighed, "Rachel is going to recover quicker if she's surrounded by her memories. Lima will help her remember, at least up through her senior year. Once she's ready to come back to New York, you can take her home."

"But you're taking her from me," Quinn said, nearly hyperventilating at the fear of being separated from her fiancee.

"Quinn," said Hiram, looking her straight in the eye until she calmed down. "Lee and I love you like our own daughter, you know this. We know you and Rachel are meant to be together. We want you to marry Rachel and give us grandchildren."

Quinn chuckled and relaxed a little.

"But we have to do what is best for Rachel right now. She needs to be home in Lima. She needs to remember."

Quinn nodded, "Yeah, I guess."

"It'll be alright, Quinn. You'll have your girl back before you know it."

* * *

Quinn rushed around her apartment, throwing clothing into her suitcase as fast as she could while also booking herself on the next available flight to Ohio. There was no way she was going to be more than a few minutes away from Rachel. Even if it meant she had to return to her dreadful hometown. Once she had her plane ticket, she dialed her phone and held it to her ear as she scrambled to find shoes.

"Hello?"

"Hi Mom," Quinn said.


End file.
